Seeing Other People
by MonkeyMindScream
Summary: "When she was safely within her quarters and out of earshot, she began to laugh. Because really, the whole thing was quite funny when you thought about it. However, it did beg the question: what was the cause of it, exactly?" AU in which Quickstrike tries to let Blackarachnia down easy without really needing to, the reason behind it, and the reactions afterwards.


Blackarachnia was _working._

She was _not _in the mood to be pestered by love-struck fuzors.

_AND YET..._

Quickstrike stood in front of her looking quite antsy, even by his standards. Which was sort of an accomplishment in and of itself; of the Predacons he was the one that constantly seemed to be moving. She leveled him with an irritated sneer, and snapped a curt, "What."

The fuzor fiddled with his hands out in front of him, and appeared to be trying to pick out the right words. Against her will, Blackarachnia found curiosity muscling in on irritation's space, since it was a very rare occurrence for the tiny 'bot to ever put any kind of thought into what came out of his mouth; he was more the "shoot from the hip" type, really.

"Uhh... Well, uh... H-how you doin', Sugarbot?"

Yep, curiosity was gone. Irritation once again reigned supreme. "Working."

Quickstrike flinched, and the motions of his hands got just a little more anxious. "Yeah, yeah, right, 'course ya are, right..." The fuzor swallowed, and then launched into a speech he'd blatantly been rehearsing in his head. "So- uh, look, Sugarbot- y'know I don't think there's no finer femme-bot anywhere, and we've clearly got this- what wouldja call it, this _heat _between us, but- well- I mean we ain't never outright said that we was together or nuthin', but Sugarbot, I gotta tell ya-"

Blackarachnia was filled with a sudden sense of dread. Never before had she prayed so loudly (or _ever_, really) for Megatron to suddenly comm-link her to report for duty _anywhere but where she was currently standing_. The mech was about to make some sappy love confession, she could practically feel it. It was one thing for him to flirt back and forth with her-slag, sometimes it was actually _beneficial _for her when he did that; it was the best time to ask him to do things for her-but if he started pulling _emotions_ into it- She wasn't about to try to keep _that _ruse up just for the odd favor or two, and she didn't want to have to deal with him _pining _when she turned him down-

"-Sugarbot I think we should see other people."

-oh. _Oh._

Quickstrike's fidgeting hit an all time high as he watched the widow for her reaction. When she didn't say anything (she just sort of _stared,_ to be honest), he went on desperately, "I-I don't wanna lead ya on, Sugarbot! I _do_ really like ya, don't get me wrong, it's just- It ain't nuthin' _you _did, it's more me then anything, and we're still- we can still be friends, y'know?"

There was a brief pause, before Blackarachnia said, very quietly, "I see." And with that she turned, still straight-faced, and walked from the room, leaving a despairing Quickstrike behind her.

When she was safely within her quarters and out of earshot, she began to laugh. Because really, the whole thing was quite funny when you thought about it.

...however, it did beg the question: what was the cause of it, exactly?

* * *

"Did she...take it well?"

Silverbolt was standing over an inert Quickstrike, who sat on a boulder with his face buried in his hands (or at least as buried as he could get it, considering his lack of conventional hands in the first place). The flying fuzor had arrived at their designated meeting point to find him like this, and in the past minute or so he hadn't so much as muttered a single "howdy," or acknowledged his presence much at all.

"I let 'er down as easy as I could, Bolty," he groaned, still not looking up, "but I don't reckon it did much good."

Silverbolt winced. If Blackarachnia's heart had been broken, it was just as much his fault as it was Quickstrike's. "Was she- was she very distraught then?"

"She just _looked_ at me," the scorpion went on, finally raising his head to look up at the evening sky miserably. "Stared straight into my spark. I mean I _told _her it weren't anything to do with her an' we could still be pals an' whatnot but she just- After a while she just said 'I see' and walked away! Just 'I see' an' off she went! Nuthin' I could do for 'er." Quickstrike turned his gaze earthwards again, moaning, "I never meant to break 'er heart, truly I didn'."

Silverbolt found himself smiling warmly, if not a bit apologetically. "And it's that kind of concern and compassion that betrays the Maximal morality that still beats within your-"

"Oh for cryin' out loud, wouldja _stop it_ with that?" The smaller fuzor wailed irritably, flopping down on the large rock in exasperation. "I'm currently sufferin' from what ya'd call _emotional turmoil _here! I mean I know yer hung up on this whole idea here Bolty, but for slag's sake, _pick yer moments._"

"Forgive me," the bird-dog's ears drooped a bit, wonderfully complementing the "apologetic puppy" face he was pulling; Quickstrike very nearly forgot what it was he was asking forgiveness _for _at the sight of that face. "I by no means meant to trivialize your pain, my friend. I was being insensitive. It's just...you were a _Maximal _protoform_,_ if you'll recall, and one that was never reprogrammed to be otherwise, moreover. Megatron has brainwashed you into-"

Quickstrike snorted, interrupting the Maximal for the second time that night. "He ain't brainwashed me inta nuthin', compadre, I _like_ bein' a Pred. I _belong_ on this side of the standoff, if y'know what I'm sayin'."

"I believed that once as well," Silverbolt shot back quickly, "But I've since learned where I _truly _belong...Where _you_ belong as well! With the Maximals," he bent down and took both of the fuzor's mismatched servos in his own, "with me."

Quickstrike rolled his eyes, grumbling, "Yeah, well, you ain't never been one fer blastin' things, so's that's probably why you jumped the fence..." He untangled the servo that housed his scorpion legs, and poked the larger 'bot in the chest a few times. "Now I'm feelin' awful depressed right now, so's how 'bout you be a good little doggy and cheer me up with a lift?"

The wolf-bot sighed quietly, but he didn't press the issue. He'd try again later. He extended his wings and Quickstrike gave a hoot of delight, bouncing rather eagerly into his waiting arms (truthfully, it probably would have been easier to transform to beast mode and carry him on his back, but Silverbolt preferred it this way, and he'd yet to get any complaints from his passenger for it).

They ascended into the night air with a predictable cry of, "Yee haw!"

* * *

Blackarachnia had only wanted to find out what Quickstrike had been up to. _Somehow, _that had evolved into willingly involving Tarantulas and getting him to send some of his arachniods to tail him when he "snuck out" earlier that evening. And somehow _that _had escalated into the **entirety **of the Predacon base (save the one, obviously) gathering around the screen his exploits were displayed on and gawking at it like it was a mildly engaging television program.

Until, of course, the reason for the fuzors' meeting became apparent. Then, after a short silence, there was a general cry of scandal and outrage.

"What the slag does he think he's doing?!" Megatron bellowed.

"Two-Head lost his mind!" Waspinator buzzed.

"Traitor!" Inferno cried.

"That idiot..." Tarantulas grumbled into his palm.

Blackarachnia wasn't sure if she was more annoyed with everyone muscling in on _her _spy session or them blowing a gasket over nothing.

"Do you think the Maximal is trying to obtain information from him?"

"Unlikely," Tarantulas interjected. "He's far too 'noble' for that. If it were the _rat_ romancing the fuzor I'd understand your concern, but..."

"Besides, Quickstrike doesn't have any information to _give,_" Blackarachnia drawled. "He knows about as much of what you lot are up to as Waspinator knows where the next blast is coming from." Waspinator buzzed indignantly behind her, and in response Tarantulas raised his gun and pulled the trigger without removing his gaze from the screen. There was a loud _bang _and a squeal as the wasp was blown across the room. "If the mutt was trying to skim some plots off someone, he'd have had a better chance seducing _me._"

"Give the fuzor _some_ credit, witch; the dog's _dense_ not _suicidal_."

"You looking to start something Legs?!"

"Be quiet, both of you!" Megatron snapped, still glaring at the screen. "If the Maximal has no ulterior motives, what of Quickstrike? Do you think he's planning to defect?"

"You heard him," Tarantulas said, gesturing at the image in front of them (though very high above camera, the pair could be seen doing loop-de-loops in the air). "'I _like _bein' a Pred,'" the spider mimicked, doing a disturbingly accurate impression of the fuzor's trademark drawl. "'I belong on this side of the standoff;' he isn't going anywhere."

"Bah! Whether or not he plans to abandon us, he is fraternizing with the enemy! He has betrayed us already!" Inferno was practically shaking with indignation. "Shall I buurrrn him, Royalty?"

"I think," Blackarachnia cut in with clipped tones, "that this whole thing is just a product of two idiots being infatuated with each other. No underlying motives involved."

Her leader gave sent her a look that said quite clearly that there were _always_ underlying motives, and anyone who thought otherwise was blatantly of questionable intelligence. "And whatever makes you say that?" he queried politely.

"Because they're both probably the single two _dumbest _'bots in the Beast Wars. They don't have the _capacity _to plot or plan anything."

The large mech seemed to think her words over. "Indeed... however, if the fuzor _does _defect...?"

Blackarachnia rolled her optics. "Then you blast him to _slag _and move on with your day."

Megatron didn't appear pleased with her cheek, but after a moment's consideration he gave a curt nod. "I suppose that would be the only logical course of action, yeesss. It isn't as if he'd provide the Maximals any kind of advantage, anyway..." The saurian straightened up and began marching away from the group, throwing over his shoulder, "Well, what are you all waiting for? Back to work, all of you!"

Inferno scurried off to resume his post (stopping only a moment to collect the pieces of Waspinator and deposit them in the CR chamber), and Tarantulas ambled off in the opposite direction unhurriedly.

The widow didn't move from her place in front of the screen, and watched idly as the fuzors flipped and twisted in the air. It was sort of a shame, really. The bird-dog _was_ sort of cute; she almost regretted not getting to him first. Moreover, with Quickstrike taking _himself_ off the market, it would be that much harder to coax favors from him.

...Well, maybe not. If she played up the "girl who'd had her heart broken" thing she might still be able to work up enough guilt to get him moving in the direction she wanted him to.

She shook her head slightly, and if anyone had asked she would have denied smiling. What morons.


End file.
